


All My Secrets Revealed

by neevebrody



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neevebrody/pseuds/neevebrody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McKay's eye grew wide.  "Literally, naked?" he asked.  "You mean symbolic nudity, right?  Like, you know—body stockings?  Interpretive dance?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	All My Secrets Revealed

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the artword Challenge #10 - "Reversed"

The doors to the Great Hall were two stories high if they were an inch. Rays from the Myrantan sun glinting off the massive bronze hinges caught his eye, making him look up. The cavernous entry dwarfed Teyla as she emerged with the Chieftain and the head of the Myrantan Council. At the top of the stone steps, they turned and bowed to each other before Teyla descended on her own. _That is not the face of someone who's just completed successful trade negotiations_, he thought, even though she attempted a smile as she came down to join her teammates.

John left Ronon and Rodney to their _discussion_ about what type of tattoo would look best on McKay and joined her as she reached the bottom step. "All right, how much do we have to give up?" John asked.

"Nothing. The negotiations went as planned," she replied.

"Then why the long face?" he asked. Ronon and McKay ended their discussion and joined them at the foot of the steps.

"There is to be a…ceremony to celebrate our alliance and in appreciation for our trade."

"I knew it," snapped Rodney. "What is it with these people? Don't they get enough of their voodoo rituals on a daily basis?"

"McKay—" Sheppard warned.

"Rodney, the Myrantans are honored to be trading partners and allies with us. They feel it is a gift from the ancestors for their loyalty and bravery against the Wraith."

"So what's the problem?" Ronon asked.

"It is the type of ceremony—"

"Ah yes, exactly why I hate these things," McKay interjected. "Not only are you expected to eat and drink God knows what, there's always a ceremony. What is it this time? Invoking the spirit? Sacrifice? Purification? Smoking the ceremonial herb, which is, you know…."

When Teyla didn't answer right away, a little warning bell went off in the back of John's brain telling him he wasn't going to like this.

Teyla sighed. "It is called the R'uustai. It symbolizes fidelity and courage."

"Oh thank God!" Rodney said, pointing to Ronon. "Your turn for a change, big guy and it's about ti—"

"Actually, Rodney, the Council has chosen the participants and I am afraid there can be no substitutes. If we do not participate in the ceremony, we will fail to prove our trustworthiness as allies."

John watched Rodney's shoulders slump. Scrubbing his hand across his face, he said, "Couldn't you just convince them that we're—I don't know—good for it, tell 'em they have no reason not to trust us?"

She shook her head. "No, Colonel. I am afraid not. The Myrantans must see for themselves. Their traditions and this ceremony are very meaningful. This particular rite is to prove to them that we have nothing to hide."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rodney asked. "Do we bare our souls, tell our innermost secrets? Oh God, they haven't concocted some kind of truth serum have they?"

Her gaze fell to the stone landing where they stood. "Teyla?" John prodded when she didn't respond.

"Yes, in a way, that is exactly what the participants will do," she answered quietly. "The R'uustai requires the participants to stand before the villagers—naked—to symbolize that we have no secrets to keep from them."

McKay's eye grew wide. "Literally, naked?" he asked. "You mean symbolic nudity, right? Like, you know—body stockings? Interpretive dance?"

Teyla shook her head. "No, Rodney."

John thought Teyla's somber mood might be because she had been chosen to take part and was embarrassed. "It's all right, Teyla. I realize it might be a little uncomfortable for you, but—"

She raised her head. "I am not one of the participants," she said.

"Then who?" John asked. He saw her glance at McKay.

"Rodney and you, Colonel."

John's eyes shot to Rodney. His face was already turning pink. "What?" Rodney spluttered. "I'm no warrior, or even brave or—"

John raised his hand to silence him. "What else, Teyla?"

"The participants stand facing one another, their hands bound behind their backs. This symbolizes our commitment to the Myrantan people and our promise, as allies, not to interfere with their governance or try and force our ways on th—"

Rodney snorted. "There's irony for you."

Teyla continued. "Then there is the joining. It is the final act of the rite and symbolizes the alliance between—"

"And that's where the sex comes in," Rodney interrupted. "Mark my words, not only are these people hopelessly entrenched in the Dark Ages, they're all perverts as well." John stepped over and took Rodney by the elbow in a hold he hoped McKay would correctly interpret as 'you're not helping.'

He turned to Teyla. "Go on."

She cleared her throat. "Rodney is correct. With the joining, as with the alliance, there is mutual trust. One partner giving of himself for the other's benefit. There must be mutual… satisfaction to fully consummate the alliance."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Jesus, I hate that word."

John tightened his grip. "So that means both participants have to, um, in order to show…" He was floundering for the right words. "But our hands are still bound?"

"Yes. That is where the sacrifice is shown, what one partner is willing to do for the other's… satisfaction. The more... creative you are, the deeper the alliance is perceived to be and the deeper the Myrantan's trust in us."

Rodney pulled his arm away. "Oh for—it's all made up—are you serious? They just make this crap up as they go along, right?"

Teyla laid her hand on Rodney's shoulder. "I am sorry, Rodney. I did try to persuade the Council, but the only alternative was to perform the ceremony with one of the villagers."

"Well, that's perfect," Rodney cried. "I'm sure Sheppard won't mind. There's got to be some fairly attractive females around here."

John had always admired Teyla's ability to speak to anyone in a calming tone, even McKay. He was just as surprised to see the affect it had.

"Rodney, I am afraid you do not understand. The R'uustai must be performed by two men because…" She looked nervously at John then back at Rodney. "Because the proof must be evident. The villagers need to see—"

"Yes, yes, I get it," Rodney said.

"And the Council was adamant about their choice of you as one of the participants. I just thought—I thought you would rather perform the ceremony with Colonel Sheppard than with a stranger."

John watched Rodney's face soften a little.

~~~~

Teyla's description of the ceremony paled in comparison to actually standing there on a platform surrounded by villagers and the Council. John planned never to step foot on Myrantas again, so it wasn't so much them, but Jesus, Teyla and Ronon. He was heartened only by the fact they hadn't brought a detail of Marines with them.

And then there was Rodney. He looked mortified. John tried hard not to look lower than Rodney's shoulders. He didn't want to make Rodney any more uncomfortable; at least that's what he told himself. His main concern was how he was going to get Rodney aroused and bring him off without showing at least some of the hand he'd managed to keep so well hidden all this time.

John looked to his left. The head of the Council stood there flanked by two villagers, both young men, early twenties if John had to guess. Their olive skin glinted in the sun and dark, curly hair framed angelic faces and almost icy-blue eyes. He glanced out at the crowd and noticed similar coloring throughout most of the population.

The men held what John thought were sandals at first, and he wondered why they would be asked to wear only shoes. Looking closer, he realized these must be the bindings for their hands – long stretches of leather with thin strips dangling from them. At the wave of the Councilman's hand, the two men came forward to begin the ceremony. The Chieftain spoke a few words about the R'uustai and its time-honored meaning to the Myrantans and then strong arms pulled John's hands behind him.

He felt the cold slap of the leather against his forearms, the strips then criss-crossed each arm from his elbows to his wrists. Finally, bringing John's hands together, one of the young men pulled the leather strips taut, wrapped the remainder around both wrists and tied. He watched as they repeated the process with Rodney. Once the villagers had completed the binds, everyone exited the platform, leaving them alone.

"So, Sheppard. Any suggestions, ideas, handy ways to commit suicide while standing in front of the entire village with your hands bound?"

"What?" John asked, staring out over Rodney's left shoulder. Rodney bumped him with the other making John look at him.

"Just in case it's slipped your mind, Colonel, we're completely naked in front of hundreds of Myrantans who are waiting for us to prove our 'trustworthiness' by getting each other off. I think that's worth just a little of your attention, hmm?"

John nodded.

"So," Rodney continued. "Unless you have knowledge of some pretty exotic positions or have some kind of orgasmic magic in those hazel-green eyes of yours, I suggest frottage."

John blinked at him.

"We're about the same height, so that should do the trick." Rodney sighed as John stood there staring blankly. "Hello? You know, rubbing against each other, using our penises and the friction to bring us off."

"You make it sound so romantic," John remarked. "And I know what frottage means."

"Listen, Sheppard, I assure you, I want this to be over as quickly as possible and apparently we get extra credit for being creative, so—I mean a blowjob might be quicker, but a bit predictable don't you think—not very inspired?"

John wasn't so sure of that as he gazed at the odd slant of Rodney's mouth and when he started to think more about it, he quickly looked away. Just then, a small breeze came up and with it the scent of green apples, possibly Rodney's shampoo or his sunscreen – whatever, it was strangely soothing.

"Right. I'll take your silence as assent. Jesus, Sheppard, this isn't easy for me either you know. All the sex you must have had, I figured to get a little more help here."

His breath caught as Rodney moved in closer, their bodies touching in several places, and adrenaline burned through his veins as he realized Rodney was already hard. He slowly turned his eyes back on the man in front of him.

"See," Rodney said. "We should be able to—" He stopped and looked down John's torso and then back up. "You're, um, not cooperating," Rodney said in a voice that was a little too lighthearted for John's taste. "Look, I realize I'm not a statuesque blonde with big boobs, but—"

"That's your fantasy, McKay," he said, looking away again. Rodney had no idea, of course. He was sure, like the rest of them, Rodney had his own notions about John's preferences, even counted himself in competition with John for the attention of the women on Atlantis, not to mention a few of the other worlds they had alliances and trade agreements with.

John steeled his jaw as Rodney started to move again, rubbing his cock back and forth over John's and, Christ, it felt good, but he still held back.

"Well you've just exploded a myth I've had for years," Rodney said. "I thought you were one of those guys who always had it up. And here I was worried about me. I mean—this must be—"

"Rodney," John said interrupting him, finally looking him in the eye.

Rodney's smirk faded. "Okay, sorry, here, let me try something," he said in a tone he might use when trying to fix a failed sensor on the jumper. He moved closer to nuzzle John's neck and John's eyes drifted shut as the warm flat of Rodney's tongue slid up along the protruding tendon to his clenched jaw. He kissed his way across until John felt something warm and wet surround his earlobe, then the sudden sharpness of teeth working it back and forth, making all the hairs on his body stand on end.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"I don't think it's going to come to that, Colonel." Rodney's raspy whisper showered John with goosebumps.

"What—what are you doing?" John breathed.

"I'm trying to get you to loosen up a little." Jesus, Rodney's whispering was almost as hot as his licking. "Maybe if you relax, it'll—you know, come naturally." He shifted a little to the side and continued, "Or, a story maybe—for a visual? How about the long-legged brunette secretary and her boss—a slow striptease?"

John sensed Rodney looking down. The Myrantan sun was high overhead, sending a faint trickle of sweat curving around his neck

"No? Hmm, well the sexy school teacher and her naughty pupil in detention, then—gender negotiable?"

John could feel Rodney's eyes on him.

Rodney sighed. "Okay," he said, voice much quieter and much lower, the words slow and measured, and something about it tugged at John deep behind his navel. "How about I tell you the story of the scientist who was sent to work in a remote lab in Russia and his handsome lab assistant."

John's face burned. He shot a quick glance at Rodney. He was looking down so he had to have noticed. John swallowed hard as Rodney's eyes traveled back up to his. John's cock twitched again and he hoped to God Rodney hadn't caught the little hitch in his breath. He cut his eyes away, purposefully looking over Rodney's head, but he sensed Rodney was smiling.

"Don't get too used to the scenery, Colonel; I'll have us out of here in no time."

John had no idea what that meant, but if there was any comfort to be had in this situation, it was that Rodney McKay was nothing short of determined when he set his mind to something, and if he had a plan, John was willing to listen.

But Rodney didn't say any more. His lips and tongue were alive on John's skin again, moving slowly down to the hollow of his neck, across his collarbone down to his nipple.

John stifled his moan as Rodney licked over it, around it and fluttered his tongue until the skin was pebbled and hard. John gasped and started to take a step back, he couldn't let Rodney do this, couldn't let him know that what he was doing was… but he caught himself as several faces swam into view. The Council was watching them; a step back would be seen as a weakness, so John lowered his heel to the platform and stood his ground.

Warm lips hovered before drawing John's nipple inside and when Rodney started to suck and roll it between his teeth, John couldn't hold back any longer. He moaned loudly, the sound escaping from him in a joyous release.

Rodney moaned, too, and pulled away. John was on the verge of protest when Rodney began on the other nipple, already so hard it hurt. John pulled at his bindings as Rodney sucked harder, biting with more force, and not even wanting to help himself anymore, John pushed forward, catching his dick in the crease between Rodney's thigh and hip. His skin was warm and smooth except for the dusting of fine, light brown hair.

John pushed up and back against him as Rodney returned to the first nipple, not being gentle now at all and John was finally hard – gloriously, achingly hard. He watched Rodney. Tiny beads of sweat dotted his shoulders and John caught the sweet odor of apples again mixed with the peppery scent of the heating leather.

Rodney didn't look like someone doing something out of duty or necessity, going through rote motions as a means to an end. But John knew that's just what it was – all it was. Rodney was a smart man and he'd said it himself – he wanted this to be over as quickly as possible and go home. John tried not to enjoy it; he knew when this was over, it would be over, but that alone was justification for savoring each touch, each reaction.

"Rodney," he said. His voice was a weak croak and he had to clear his throat. "Tell me about the scientist and the lab assistant."

Rodney gave a soft little sigh and pulled away. Looking up at John, he asked, "Really?"

John nodded. Rodney's voice was grounding him, closing up the space around them and obscuring the reality of where they were and what this was. Rodney straightened up and moved his hips, perfectly aligning their cocks. He pushed up slightly, turning John's face into a grimace of intense pleasure. "Hmm, feels good doesn't it?" Rodney whispered and John just nodded again.

"Tell me," he gritted.

"Oh, so now you want to move things along," Rodney replied, leaning into John again, his lips just brushing against John's ear, and that sent shivers through his whole body, like icy fingers all over, all at once. "It was very lonely where the scientist was exiled, very remote and very fucking cold. He spent the first couple of months ignoring the glances and furtive touches of his lab assistant. After a while, he started to notice how handsome the assistant was, how easy to talk to, how bright he was and that he had a great smile. It all started with the touching, the—"

"Who started it?" John breathed, slowly rocking into Rodney.

"Yur—the assistant started it. He'd lean in close to the scientist whenever he could, finding any excuse to touch, grab an arm or lay a hand on a shoulder or the small of the scientist's back. Then one day the assistant went further, slipped his hand down over the scientist's ass." Rodney paused only to nip at the skin behind John's ear and then continued. "The next thing there's kissing and groping and a hand down the scientist's pants, tugging on his dick, jacking him off, his—"

"What was the scientist doing?" John tried to control his breathing, his body pressed tight against Rodney's.

"The same – hand around the assistant's thick, hard cock. It all happened really fast that first time." Rodney's voice lowered again. "The first time the assistant blew him, the scientist came so hard he nearly passed out, not that he'd never gotten a blowjob before, but the lab assistant knew a few tricks—"

A chill wriggled down John's spine at Rodney's next words.

"—tricks he taught the scientist." Rodney punctuated his point by thrusting harder against John. "And the assistant figured out a way to stay hard and hold back his own orgasm so the scientist could take all the time he wanted sucking his cock."

John moaned and ground against Rodney and a mind-numbing jolt shuddered through him as Rodney pushed back and started a rhythm. They were moving together, Rodney's mouth still at John's ear. Myrantas was forgotten, there was no Council, no throng of villagers watching. Just the closing in of his peripheral awareness, shuttering down to only Rodney's voice, Rodney's body, so close – so close.

"That's it, Colonel," Rodney whispered. "You'll have your spunk all over me yet."

John whimpered and slumped into the crook of Rodney's neck. The ends of Rodney's hair were damp with sweat and John inhaled the earthy tang of his skin, nuzzling into it as Rodney moaned against him. "Rodney," he asked breathlessly. "Are you the scientist?" He kept his head down, not wanting Rodney to see the desperation in his eyes.

"Very astute, Sheppard," he replied.

The complex reality of that simple statement was like a punch low in John's belly. Rodney had experience with men and obviously enjoyed it, but was he enjoying it now, or was this just something he had to do? John wanted to know more, wanted more of Rodney's voice.

"Did you—did the scientist and his assistant do anything else? This?" he asked, sliding against Rodney's stomach for emphasis, slippery pre-come easing his way.

Rodney turned his head, his lips right at John's ear. "Are you asking me, Colonel, if my assistant and I ever fucked?"

John swallowed down his half-choked cry and tugged hard at his restraints. Jesus, he needed his hands on Rodney, needed to grab his ass and grind their hips together, needed to get his hand around Rodney cock. The only other means of quenching that need was with his mouth. He raised his head to kiss Rodney, to taste him, he needed to, and he could, so close now, that's all it would take to get him off, but… that would give it all away, not only to Rodney, but to the others, and he couldn't let anyone know. _This_, he told himself, was for the villagers, the Council. No, he wouldn't. If he ever kissed Rodney, it wouldn't be in front of a bunch of strangers, it wouldn't be part of a ceremony, it would be a kiss just for them.

Rodney's words suddenly seemed to reverberate through the small amphitheater. "Yes, we did."

"Jesus, Rodney, did—did you—?"

The voice John had always associated with insensitive diatribes and sleep-inducing exposition curled sinfully into his ear. "Mmm, you ever had a hard cock up your ass, Sheppard?"

John's eyes rolled back in his head as the spasms rocked him. He buried his face in Rodney's neck as his warm rush eased the friction between them, biting into Rodney's salt-kissed shoulder to keep from screaming his name.

~~~~

Rodney was quiet during the trip back in the jumper and, not his usual self; he'd given up the co-pilot's seat to Teyla. It was probably just a delayed reaction – embarrassment, so John didn't push. Even when Rodney was conspicuously absent from the mess at dinnertime, John decided to let it go. The ceremony had been an ordeal; the praise and admiration from the Council for their _performance_ had been awkward, to say the least. Rodney just needed some time.

When things didn't get any better in a couple of days, John thought about worrying. Maybe another mission would help get the bad taste of Myrantas out of Rodney's mouth, but when John checked the ready room, Rodney wasn't there. Teyla and Ronon hadn't seen him and neither had Elizabeth. Even Zelenka didn't know where he was and all attempts to hail him over the radio were unsuccessful.

"Finally. What are you doing down here?" John asked, finding Rodney in one of the technology labs deep in the city. "I was getting ready to break out the bio scanners."

Rodney didn't answer him. He was tinkering with a piece of ancient tech laid out on a table in front of him. An array of crystals, tools and spare parts lay scattered around him. John noted that Rodney was wearing his earpiece.

"Rodney?"

"I think it's quite obvious I'm busy, Colonel. What do you want?"

John tried to ignore the way Rodney kept his back to him. "I wanted to find out what was so important for you to skip a mission."

"Oh yes, that. I'm working on something that may boost the output of the naquadah generators. I'm sure you can grab an extra Marine or another scientist for a while, can't you?" He never turned around or stopped tinkering as he spoke.

"A while? You plan on skipping more missions?"

"Like I said, Colonel, busy here."

John stepped closer. "You're a member of the team, Rodney. We need you. Your input—"

Rodney snorted. "There are other adequate scientists you could take."

"Adequate? McKay, I don't want adequate. I want you. Now, gear up—we'll wait for you."

Rodney turned to face him. "You're not listening, Colonel. I have important work here and the fact that we've been unsuccessful in locating and obtaining a ZedPM gives this particular project—"

"C'mon, Rodney, any red-shirt can do this preliminary stuff. How many times have you told me that?"

Spinning back around on his stool, Rodney offered a curt, "Good day, Sheppard," and continued fiddling with the device.

~~~~

It was late when the team returned from M3X-773. Dr. Gallagher may not have been incompetent, but she'd been too slow, taking entirely too much time evaluating readings and analyzing data. After the debriefing, John went looking for Rodney. He hadn't even shown up for the meeting. Sure, it hadn't been his mission, but he was head of the science department, dammit, and responsible for his personnel. Plus, John could have used a second pair of eyes on that data, eyes he trusted.

Not finding Rodney in any of his usual haunts, John made his way to Rodney's quarters, careful to tamp back his anger on the way. He really didn't want to fight with Rodney, but he was determined to get to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on.

He swiped his hand over the crystals once, twice, three times and was just about to turn away when Rodney opened the door.

"Disturbing your beauty sleep, McKay?" He stepped forward to enter as he'd done dozens of times, but Rodney blocked his way. "Are you gonna let me in?"

"No, I don't think so, Colonel."

"All right, Rodney, let's cut this bullshit right now. What the fuck is your problem?"

"If you're referring to my missing the mission today, I've already explained my—"

"You know damn well what I'm referring to. Ever since we got back from Myrantas, after the—you've been avoiding me."

Rodney grinned. "Yes, you would think that wouldn't you? Has it occurred to you that I've been avoiding everyone? Didn't think so. No, only that I might be avoiding you."

John stared at him. Rodney stood resolutely in the doorway. "Yes, you have been avoiding me and I want to know—"

"Why?" Rodney cocked his head. "My, we are important aren't we? You know, I do have other matters that require my attention, but I'm not surprised you think you should be one of them. You mentioned Myrantas. What? You think because I told you a dirty story and got you off, that somehow has something to do with us?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

John took a step closer. "You got off, too, McKay, or did you forget that part?"

"No, I didn't forget, but I was under the impression what happened was to prove to the natives that we were a worthy ally, no more, no less. In fact, I haven't given it another thought, but naturally you'd think it had something to do with you. I know, maybe you're here because I stumbled upon something you've managed to kept hidden. Apparently, our friendship means so much; you didn't care to even mention it. Don't worry, Sheppard. Your secret's safe with me. Now, was there something else you wanted?" he asked, his mouth curling into an angled grin.

Without a thought to what he was doing, John backed Rodney into the room. The doors whispered shut as he shoved Rodney up against the nearest wall, hands fisted in his shirt. John's skin burned with fury and blood banged like a drum in his ears as he searched Rodney's face. But for once, forgetting everything except what he wanted, John leaned in and kissed him, moving his lips over Rodney's, pushing himself into him until he realized Rodney was lifeless beneath him. John pulled back, his lips still tingling, but with an empty coldness that was worse than no feeling at all.

Rodney's expression didn't change a whit. He huffed out a condescending breath. "Just as I thought—you pretty boys are all alike. This what you want, Sheppard?" He reached out to run his hand along John's crotch. Pushing John's shoulder with the other hand, Rodney turned them so John's back was against the wall.

"Tell me," Rodney whispered. "Hand job, blowjob, what?"

John stared into those darkening blue eyes and tried to speak. He had a raging hard-on and Rodney knew it.

"That's really what you came here for, right? So, which is it?"

It wasn't what he came for at all, but... Rodney pressed closer and John closed his eyes, willing himself to push Rodney away, just walk away now before... but his dick burned for Rodney's touch, his heart slammed mercilessly against his chest and John couldn't move.

"What's wrong, Colonel? Shy?"

John remained speechless.

Rodney snorted in his ear. "My choice then," he said in that low register that set something pulsing in John's stomach. Already working on John's belt and zipper, Rodney licked along the shell of his ear as he took out John's cock then dropped to the floor in front of him.

~~~~

The hallways were quiet and dark. John was dimly aware of where he was headed – his quarters, he thought. Yes, that was it. Bed, he needed to sleep. His legs were like rubber, head stuffed with cotton. He'd clung helplessly to the wall as Rodney blew him, unable to speak, hardly to breathe until Rodney had coaxed every last drop from him, and Jesus fuck, he couldn't remember the last time he'd come so hard.

Then he'd just zipped John up and sent him on his way with nothing but one of McKay's classic smirks and John soon found himself standing in front of his own door – the bed inside calling to him.

~~~~

Good or bad, John always liked to know the score. Things were better that way. Confusion wasn't something he tolerated well. After what happened in Rodney's quarters, he was even more lost, if that was possible. Over the past few days, things had almost seemed back to normal. Rodney was eating in the mess again and was speaking to the entire team. They all carefully avoided talk of the ceremony or anything to do with Myrantas. Elizabeth had put Teyla in charge of emissary visits without an inkling of why John was hesitant to return.

He and Rodney had also carefully avoided making any reference to what happened between them. They might have discussed it when they were alone, only they were never alone anymore. If they played chess, it was always in the mess hall, and Rodney had started leaving his lab earlier in the evenings. He was there, but he wasn't. He was physically present, but the old Rodney had disappeared and John didn't like it. John didn't like being confused, he didn't like not knowing the score and he didn't like missing Rodney.

~~~~

Red faced, he stalked through the corridors leading down to the labs. "Where's McKay?" he barked at anyone who crossed his path. Some shrugged and others just pointed in the general direction of Rodney's private lab.

Rodney looked up momentarily as John stormed into the room, but lowered his eyes immediately back to his work. John strode right up to Rodney's desk and leaned over it, some of the papers actually fluttered he was breathing so hard.

"Yes, Colonel?" Rodney said coolly, still not looking at him.

"Goddammit, McKay, look at me," he bellowed without a care if anyone else was around.

Rodney slowly looked up. As if dousing it with water, some of the fire went out of John's anger. Rodney looked like he hadn't slept for days. His smirk had disappeared in favor of a nondescript line. The furrows between his brows were deeper, the circles beneath his eyes darker, and the always-vibrant eyes were steely blue-gray and guarded.

It took a moment for John to regain his momentum. "I—we need to talk. I need to know what's going on with you."

"Oh, like you really care," Rodney murmured.

"Hell yes, I care! I've just left Elizabeth. She says you've taken yourself off the team's mission roster. Now I'm not leaving here until I know what the hell this is all about."

"That's my prerogative, is it not—to quit the team?"

"No. No, it's not. I chose you, goddammit, and I'll tell you when you can leave—or throw you off myself."

The ghost of his smirk returned. Rodney shook his head and turned his attention back to his laptop. John reached out and slammed it shut. "Are you gonna talk to me?"

He stood up and walked to another table. John followed him and leaned in close. "Rodney?"

"I don't want to be on the team anymore, okay? Then again, I don't want to be off the team, because—because if something happened to you and I wasn't there, I'd—but if something happened and I was there, I don't know if—" Rodney lowered his head and let out a long, heavy sigh. "I can't get past that ceremony. I want—it's like finding something you thought you lost, but then you have it again and you want to hold on to it, really hold on tight—so you can't lose it again—and when you do that, you just—everything gets all—"

John's stomach twisted into an empty knot. Everything in him wanted to grab Rodney, grab him, hold him, and tell him it was all right. "You're not making sense, McKay," he said instead. "What is it? What do you want?" John waited, lungs holding his breath hostage, as if any sound he made might cause Rodney to say the wrong thing. He reached for Rodney's elbow.

Rodney turned to look at him. It was as if he'd read John's thoughts, as if something he'd said or even the sound of John's voice had set off alarms, and John watched the barrier slip back up.

"Nothing, Colonel. I don't want anything. No, I take that back. I wouldn't say no to someone handing me another ZedPM, or the Nobel Prize. Other than that, I've learned it does no good to want. You're always disappointed in the end and sometimes, even the small things you want, like really good chocolate or a decent cup of coffee fall short of your expectations. Now, if you'll excuse me," he straightened up and turned to face John. "I have work to do. We'll talk about the team later, huh?"

John stood, hands balled into fists, nails digging into his palms as if that would somehow keep him from taking Rodney in his arms. John looked at him, then stepped aside and watched him walk back to his desk and open the laptop.

"Don't I get a say?" John asked after a moment.

"I said we'd talk about it later. Now run along and have a good afternoon. Not that you need it, but I'm sure you'd enjoy a good spar with Ronon or whoever."

"It's evening, Rodney, almost dinnertime. How long have you been down here?"

Rodney's shoulder rolled in a lazy shrug.

"Listen, about the team—we need you. I need you. I chose you because I trust you, because I know I can count on you."

Rodney's tired eyes flickered up to him. "Is that supposed to sway me, Sheppard? Make me feel better? Are you still under the delusion this has anything to do with the fucking team?"

John bristled. "Then tell me, goddammit!" He slammed his fist on the table sending shards of pain up his arm. "Tell me what it has to do with."

In a voice as calm and even as a bright blue sky, Rodney dismissed him with a soft, "Good evening, Colonel."

~~~~

All through dinner, he thought about the things Rodney said in the lab. Even during a late run, which he took to try and clear his head, he could hear Rodney's voice, see the sadness in his eyes. As the hot spray of the shower beat down along his back, he thought about that night in Rodney's quarters. At the time, it had seemed like something Rodney wanted to do, then after, he was so cold and dismissive, just like earlier in the lab.

The water bent around his neck and trickled down over his chest, and somehow that swerved his thoughts back to the ceremony, the way Rodney's cock pressed against him, the scent of Rodney's skin, how it had felt to push against him, and later, how Rodney's mouth had been so warm and eager to swallow him down, sucking him, making him come harder than he had in a long, long time.

His orgasm slammed into him before John realized what he was doing. Soapy hand still on his dick, the other scrabbling at the tile to steady himself, he choked out Rodney's name as the last few spasms wracked him. He was spent but his hand had left him hollow, tired; he wanted more, wanted Rodney. And that was it right there – he knew he was going to have to do something, get off his ass, have a plan, it was up to him.

He dried off, cleaned his teeth and, running his fingers back and forth over his scalp, shook most of the moisture out of his hair. He slung a towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door to find Rodney sitting on his bed.

"Hi," said John, because he had to say something. "You all right?"

Rodney looked up at him and nodded.

John tightened his grip on the towel. "So, what do you want?" he asked coolly.

"Okay, I deserve that—I've been acting like—I've been a real…"

"Bastard?" John offered.

"Fair enough," Rodney snorted. "I didn't mean any of those things I said that night—in my quarters."

"I know."

Rodney blinked at him and nodded. "I'm not quitting the team either. I—I couldn't bear to lose your friendship, but I can't bear to disappoint you even more so…"

"I'd hate to lose your friendship, too, but is this just about the team?"

"Well, that was all I wanted to…" His voice trailed off and he stood up. He started for the door, but John reached out, caught his wrist and steered him back to the bed. He eased Rodney onto it and sat down beside him.

"I guess I do owe you an explanation."

"Rodney, I—"

"Just—just let me get through this, okay." John looked down at Rodney's hands nervously kneading his thighs. "Have you ever tried not to want something? Tried not to want it because you knew you could never have it anyway, so what was the point?"

John rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, Rodney, as a matter of fact, I have."

"Oh." That seemed to surprise him. "Really? Well, you know that feeling when you find out there's a chance, maybe just a tiny chance," he said, pinching his fingers together, "to have what you want—but then being afraid of that chance?"

John swallowed down a dry lump of air. "Yes."

Rodney sat there clasping and unclasping his hands.

"Rodney, I don't know what happened in Russia and I don't really want to know. But not every situation has to be like that. And not to ever try again because you're afraid things might not work out… well, I've felt that way, and it only ends up…" He fingered his towel, not sure what to say next. So much for a plan. "My point is, don't you think it's better to take the chance? Otherwise you'll never know what you could have had."

Rodney turned to him. "Why are we talking in riddles? Why are we ignoring what happened—what I think we both want to happen?"

John shrugged. "You started it."

Rodney breathed a little sigh and a grin edged up the corner of his mouth. "I mean was it so bad? Did I read a few things wrong? What? Tell me, Sheppard, because I don't want to—I mean if there's no chance just say so."

John took Rodney's chin and lifted it so their eyes met. "You didn't read anything wrong, Rodney. Are you asking what I think you're asking?"

"Well, I know we can't be… open about it, I'm not an idiot." He rolled his eyes. "Look, you asked me before what I wanted."

"Yeah." And he still wanted to know, wanted to hear Rodney say it.

Rodney stared at him a moment before answering, "I just want that chance, John."

He smiled and slid his hand to Rodney's cheek. The sound of his name settled, warm and deep, in his chest and spread out over his entire body. "Okay," he said, teasingly, "but I'm not promising any more than that."

Rodney pulled him close, "I'm not asking for any more," he whispered and leaned forward to cover John's mouth with a kiss. It was a slow, sweet kiss, a real kiss. A kiss just for them at last. A kiss that was as far away from cold and lifeless as they were from Earth, and for that kiss, John would have promised Rodney anything.


End file.
